Seriously Ladies, you don't have to get a thigh tattoo to be hip

If I had a crisp Sh200 note for every time a lady rolled up her thighs to show me a thigh tattoo, I would have exactly 20 minutes to flee the country before Patrick Njoroge orders an inquest into my own Central Bank of Sh200 bob notes.

Now that the Supreme Court and its litany of lawyers are treating us to legal jargon, I dare say, it is time I too joined the circus. I am filing a petition. The People Vs Thigh Tattoos. 

Exhibit A: My lords, and my ladyships, I am yet to see a thigh tattoo and go, “Gee! What a beautiful (thigh) tattoo! Can I have three of those?” My Justices, I submit to you that tattoos, specifically thigh tattoos are just an attention-seeking gimmick that has no place in a civilised society. What next? Where do we go next?

Over the past few years, you can't throw a stone in Nairobi without hitting a lady just fresh from inking her thighs. It’s the zeitgeist. Kenyan babes and thigh tattoos are the new pandemic. My reasoning is founded on simple logic, not rocket science: I am not saying all thigh tattoos are the same, I am also not saying that. It’s a Kenyan thing, you know? When one person opens an M-Pesa shop or a butchery or a hotel, everyone else proceeds to open the same businesses. We have, what do you call it, “devolved thinking.”

Thigh tattoos are now as ubiquitous as the Pipeline-esque Highrise flat apartments that give Kilimani and Kileleshwa (Kilileshwa) that tower of babel feel. It’s not hard to spot the thigh tattoos. Your eyes are drawn to them like a moth to light. A lass will be valiantly trying to pull her dress down like a classic trifecta: at one point she wants the tattoo to be seen, but she also feels like the dress is too short. Oh, and she is feeling cold.

And the thing with tattoos, most people do not get them for themselves. Ladies certainly get them to show off. And that means our hospitals are crowded because of chest and cold problems caused by overexposure. Plus, it lends to a complete lack of aesthetics. Because why would anyone with a thigh tattoo care what they look like? Why would a thigh-tattoo-wearer care for presentation? Besides, it’s like they all go to the same tattoo artist – you know the one – because of social conditioning and peer pressure and TikTok. 

You are wondering how I could possibly fill up a 1000-word article lubricating on tattoos? Here’s how: the tattoos are not even creative by themselves. Have you seen the designs? The options are usually meh: rose petals that end up looking like managu because Nairobi weather is no joke; a graphic illustration of abstract art choices from cartoons to eerie gothic symbols; or a tribal marking that could do with more shading. Prove me wrong. If you think you have a unique thigh tattoo, then please feel free to counter-file and shame me. Send me a full-length picture in my email. 

Here is the rule of thumb; the bigger the tattoo, the more brazen the subject. You may want to argue, castigate my research findings but trust me bro. Mutatis mutandis, I have nothing against tattoos. I have everything against where they are placed. I think they look ‘cute’ if done well. However, most of these tattoos look like those “I-am-looking-for-the-best-price” type of tattoos, where you excruciatingly negotiate with the tattoo artist to the point of them getting within a touching distance of filing for bankruptcy.

I am petitioning the government to officially recognise this population. They deserve their own demographic and I know they have the numbers (hehe). It is the only class that grows daily, if you discount the alcohol-taking one, which, coincidentally they float in between. I’m not saying that all ladies who love the bottle have a thigh tattoo, I am saying that all ladies who have a thigh tattoo love their bottle.

My antennae spike up when they are around. They have this je nais sais quoi. Think about it. She has a serpent tattoo on her inner thigh and you think she won’t bite? Show me a prude and I will show you a putz!

Respectfully, I submit that thigh tattoos have gripped the Kenyan collective conscience akin to the way our economy is straddled with debts, Sauvage Dior, and the eyeroll-inducing ‘fragile masculinity’ tropes.

I have since suspended swimming because I cannot stand the sight of fading tattoos. I have resorted to hacking my Instagram algorithm to cute videos of cats cuddling and Ghosts caught on camera and how do porcupines have sex? 

Credit where it’s due department; not all tattoos are bad. Let the record reflect that, in fact, I am willing to extend an olive branch; I can accept the upper-left-breast tattoo that comes in all its glory: dog paws, fading stars, and butterflies.

See, the law is very clear. Your freedom to throw a punch ends where my nose begins. And I posit that thigh tattoos are an assault akin to throwing a punch at an unarmed man. He who alleges must prove. And I believe I have proven that thigh tattoos are malfeasance, and should be dismissed – with costs.

Dr. Mulwo, my Development Communication lecturer at university taught me that communication is not just what you say. It’s especially what you don’t say, and, sometimes what is said about you.

But I am a reasonable man and my ideas are not cast in stone (or in this case, permanent tattoo ink. LOL.) If you really have to get a tattoo, and if it really has to be on your thigh/s, consider my suggestion. Make that tattoo an Acacia Tree. The perfect epiphany for the desert of ideas you all have when it comes to tattoos.

Your honour, the prosecution rests.

[email protected] @eddyashioya